Shiver
by Anna Maxwell
Summary: When a deadly trap is set, Darien's Quicksilver isn't the only thing cold to the touch. If they don't act fast, Hobbes will be on ice...permanently. Chapter 4 added!
1. Default Chapter

1 Title: Shiver  
  
Author: Anna Maxwell  
  
Rating: PG-13  
  
Disclaimer: Story idea is mine (if they'd like it I'll share ^_^) but the characters belong to Stu Segall.  
  
Darien groaned as the alarm clock came alive next to his unsuspecting ear. He reached an arm over and hit at it. He missed the first two times but nailed it on the third swipe. He watched through one cracked eyelid as the offending object teetered on the edge of his dresser; then smirked in victory as it crashed to the floor.  
  
"Look who's beeping now." He mumbled. Darien thought about going back to sleep, but decided not to deal with his partner's complaints later. With a sigh he heaved the covers off. He instantly regretted the act as the cold rushed in.  
  
He stood, slowly moving towards his thermostat. It was freezing in the apartment. Well, to Darien at least. The rat looked comfortable. Darien frowned at the mechanical device. It certainly felt a lot colder than sixty- nine. Now that he thought about it, he'd been chilly since he had gotten home from dinner with Hobbes.  
  
Darien shivered and rubbed his arms. It was probably the winter season coming on, or something to do with the gland. He'd have to remember to mention it to Claire later. With a final frown at the thermostat, he moved off to the shower.  
  
Bobby Hobbes had woken up cold. It was more than cold; it was downright arctic. He was always awake before his alarm and today was no exception. Only it was the climate change and not instinct that had roused him at four thirty. He had forced himself to stay in bed attempting not to watch the minutes tick by.  
  
"This is getting ridiculous, even for you my friend." He muttered to himself. Nevertheless, it was four fifty when he got into the shower, and five forty when he left his apartment.  
  
The most irritating thing was the fact that he could not get warm. He had Golda's heater blasting as high as it would go, to no avail. And now he sat, at six in the morning, in front of Fawkes' apartment.  
  
"Kid's probably still sleeping." He sighed. Vaguely, he wondered if this was a side effect from one of his plethora of pills. He made a mental note to check his prescriptions when he got home.  
  
By six thirty he was so bored he was ready to pull out what little hair he had left. Bobby holstered his gun and abandoned the van temporarily. He checked out the lobby of his partner's building and he observed it from the vantage-point of the heater before heading toward the stairs.  
  
He kept his guard up and fought off the shivers going up the deserted stairwell. He slowed his pace as he neared Darien's floor and reached out for the door handle. He did a double take and frowned at his hand. It wasn't that cold in the building, and yet his hand was shaking. He set his jaw and gripped the handle, throwing the door open with more force than was necessary. There was nothing wrong with him. Nothing.  
  
Bobby casually strolled down the hall, keeping his eyes and ears open. He eased to a stop in front of Darien's door. His knuckles had barely brushed against the wood when the door swung open and the grinning form of his partner greeted him.  
  
"Morning. Fancy seeing you here." Darien quipped.  
  
Bobby stared at him, his hand still in mid-air. "How did you…?"  
  
Darien ushered him in, still grinning. "I saw you in the parking lot, and waited by the peep hole."  
  
Bobby shook his head. "You could get in trouble, spying on people like that."  
  
The taller man shrugged. "Hey, it could be worse." He quicksilvered his eyes. "I could have a camera in your apartment."  
  
Hobbes swatted at him. "You better not. Quit that, I don't want you going crazy on me in the van."  
  
Darien complied and shed the quicksilver. "You want to go grab a coffee before we go in? I don't have anything here."  
  
"Sure, partner. I've been a little cold this morning." Hobbes agreed.  
  
"I bet you're cold every morning. And night." Darien teased. He watched with amusement as his partner turned red and glared at him.  
  
"My private life is none of your business." He said, shooing him towards the door.  
  
"If you had one for me to butt into." Fawkes countered, locking his door behind him.  
  
Bobby rolled his eyes as they headed downstairs. "By the way, Fawkes, you don't have a camera in my apartment, do you?"  
  
Darien sat on the dental-like chair, waiting for Claire to finish the counteragent. He was drumming his fingers on the metal and had gotten a nice beat for himself. He looked up to see Bobby watching him and shaking his head. Fawkes grinned.  
  
"Come on, man, pick it up!" he encouraged.  
  
Hobbes looked around and joined Fawkes' music by tapping on the mice cage. After he got evenly matched to Fawkes' rhythm, he started hitting other things for effect. Claire rolled her eyes.  
  
"You two, honestly…" she murmured.  
  
"Come on, Keep, give it a whirl." Bobby grinned.  
  
"No thanks. If I don't finish this Darien will be making music by bashing our skulls together." She said.  
  
"Aw, come on, Claire. I think my more violent self could create something a little more original." Darien protested.  
  
"That's what we're afraid of." Bobby said.  
  
By now, all the tapping and banging was getting to Claire. "Gentlemen…"  
  
However, Darien was having fun. "His name is Bobby Hobbes, they call him Lithium B, and he's the coolest secret agent that you always can see…"  
  
"Darien!" Claire shouted.  
  
Bobby was laughing so hard the mouse cage was rattling, and Darien put on his best pout face. Claire heaved a patient sigh and swabbed his arm.  
  
"How you made it past Junior High I'll never know." She said.  
  
"Easy." Bobby said. "He charmed all the lady teachers and stole from the men."  
  
Fawkes glared at them. "I'll have you know I passed on my own accord. With A's."  
  
"I'm sure you did, my friend." Hobbes grinned. Without warning, he stiffened, and bent forward slightly.  
  
"You okay, buddy?" Darien called. The last of the blue liquid slid into his system and he hopped off the table. "Hobbes?"  
  
Darien had almost reached him when he stood up straight again and blinked. Darien eyed him carefully.  
  
"You okay?" he asked again.  
  
"Bobby, what's wrong?" Claire called.  
  
He glanced at her, then looked back at his partner. "Nothing, I'm fine. It just got real cold, all of a sudden. It's fine now."  
  
Fawkes threw a look over his shoulder at the Keeper. She looked as confused as she did. Darien grabbed Hobbes' arm and felt his wrist.  
  
"Jeez, Hobbes, your skin is like ice!" he exclaimed.  
  
All of this was starting to agitate Bobby. What was wrong with being cold? Everyone got cold sometimes. There was not something else wrong with him. He was fine. He wrenched his wrist out of Darien's grasp.  
  
"It's fine." He growled. "Let's go. Fat Man's waiting." He walked to the door and watched it slide open. "Later, Keep. You coming or not, partner?"  
  
Darien shared a helpless shrug with Claire. Something was definitely up. Maybe it was those pills, but Fawkes wasn't about to risk either one of their lives because of Hobbes's pride. He followed his partner up to the Official's office.  
  
Fawkes and Hobbes flopped into the familiar chairs and crossed their legs at the same time. Eberts handed a thick manila envelope to the Official who dropped it on the desk in front of the two men.  
  
"Gentlemen, this is your assignment." He announced.  
  
Fawkes and Hobbes exchanged a glance, and Hobbes reached for it. Bobby steeled the nerves in his hand and pulled the folder to him.  
  
"Auto theft, Sir?" Hobbes asked.  
  
"Yes. High tech auto theft." The Official replied.  
  
"How high tech? We talking James Bond?" Fawkes asked.  
  
Eberts shook his head. "Think French, not British."  
  
Fawkes and Hobbes stared at him.  
  
Eberts sighed. "One thing is linked to all five stolen vehicles."  
  
"What's that?" Bobby questioned.  
  
"All witnesses say that there was no one driving the cars." Eberts explained.  
  
All eyes swiveled to Darien. "Uh, hey," he protested tapping his wrist.  
  
"French, huh?" Bobby repeated. He looked at Fawkes.  
  
"Arnaud." They said together.  
  
"Exactly. That's why the two of you are on this." The Official said.  
  
"So we finally bring the Swiss Miss down." Fawkes grinned.  
  
"No." the Official said, shaking his head.  
  
Both Fawkes and Hobbes frowned. "No?" they said together.  
  
"No." the Official repeated firmly. "You are simply to recover the five cars. They belong to some… influential people. It could mean recovery rewards which would give us a financial boost."  
  
Darien sat forward in his chair. "Why can't we go after Arnaud, too?"  
  
"Budget. Besides, what good would it do? We can't do anything with him." The Official shrugged.  
  
Darien was out of his chair in a shot. "Budget? It's his fault I need the counteragent!"  
  
Bobby grabbed his sleeve. "Sit, Kid. We'll fight one thing at a time."  
  
"Don't sit, gentlemen. Go. I want the first car by dinner."  
  
"How do we get the cars from Arnaud?" Darien snapped.  
  
"You're a thief, Mr. Fawkes, you figure it out." The Official grinned.  
  
Darien glared at him and then stormed out. Hobbes shut the folder and met the Official's gaze.  
  
"Keep him in line, Mr. Hobbes. It could be Arnaud's life or his."  
  
"Yes, sir." Hobbes said quietly. Outside the office, he again thumbed through the file memorizing what each car looked like. He glanced up at his partner, who was leaning against the wall with his arms crossed. Hobbes shook his head and kept walking. Ten seconds later Darien fell in step next to him.  
  
"Way to keep your cool, Slick." Hobbes remarked.  
  
"Well you wouldn't be Mr. Joe Agent twenty-four seven if it was your head people were screwing with." Fawkes grumbled.  
  
"Kid, people have been screwing with my head since I can remember. Join the club."  
  
"Yours won't eventually kill you." Fawkes sighed softly.  
  
Hobbes stopped and they faced each other. They simply stood there for a minute, until Fawkes looked at his feet.  
  
Hobbes gave a small grin. "It might."  
  
Fawkes looked up and grinned back. "Yeah."  
  
Hobbes clapped his partner on the arm and began walking again. He held the folder out to the side. "Here. You pick the first car." A tremor ran through him, and he doubled over.  
  
Darien automatically shot his hand out, saving the folder from meeting the floor. His other hand reached out to his partner's shoulder. "Hobbes?"  
  
"Give me a second," he gasped.  
  
"I'll get Claire." Fawkes said.  
  
Hobbes snagged his arms and slowly stood back up. "Don't bother, Fawkes. Just a cramp."  
  
Fawkes eyed him. "You've never had cramps before."  
  
"Must have been the Chinese last night." Hobbes forced a smile.  
  
Fawkes watched him, not quite believing him. "Okay," he said uneasily.  
  
"You worry to much, Fawkesy. Now which car?"  
  
Fawkes reluctantly glanced at the pictures in the file. "Oh, hey, got to go for the red corvette."  
  
"Just what I was thinking." Hobbes agreed.  
  
"Hey, maybe they'll let us keep one in place of that junk-trap van of yours." Fawkes grinned.  
  
"Dependability is key, my friend. Golda's old, but never bails." Hobbes said confidently.  
  
"Kind of like you." Fawkes teased.  
  
"Who you calling' old, Slick?"  
  
"Golda."  
  
"Sure."  
  
Darien hopped into the van and looked over the information on Arnaud. "I don't get it."  
  
Bobby turned the key in the ignition. "Get what?"  
  
"What does Arnaud want with cars? And why is he doing all that hard work himself?" Darien asked.  
  
Bobby shrugged. "Good questions, my friend. If we run into him we'll ask."  
  
"Are we going to run into him?" Darien asked.  
  
Hobbes again shrugged. "Eventually. You think he'll just let us take back all five cars without a fight?"  
  
Darien smirked. "No."  
  
"Well, then," Bobby said.  
  
"Thanks, man."  
  
'Yeah. Just remember, if it comes down to you or him, we'll take a rain check." Bobby said. "What direction?"  
  
"To talk to the owner of the red corvette, take a right." Fawkes answered. Unconsciously, he turned down the heater as Bobby turned into traffic.  
  
A/N: Apologies if I am spelling Arnaud wrong! Let me know how you like it so far, and if I should continue. Thanks!!! 


	2. Chapter 2

Title: Shiver 2/?  
  
Author: Anna Maxwell  
  
See first part for disclaimer.  
  
Thanks to all those who reviewed!! *bounces with joy* And thank you for telling me I was spelling Arnaud right. ^_^  
  
Hobbes pulled the van to a slow stop in front of the manor that lay before them. You couldn't even see the house from the road because of the dense foliage planted around the area. It was gated and Bobby was willing to bet there were Doberman pinchers around somewhere.  
  
Darien pulled his sunglasses down to look over them. "How are we going to get in there?"  
  
Hobbes parked just out of the way of the gate. "Flash our badge and hope they believe us."  
  
"Right." Darien followed his partner up to the phone box and camera. Bobby pushed the button he hoped was the doorbell.  
  
The camera clicked to life and swiveled around to focus on the two men. It had to do an up and down sweep to get all of Darien in. A voice came through the box.  
  
"Can I help you gentlemen?"  
  
Darien and Bobby exchanged a look. "The butler, I guess." Darien said.  
  
"I beg your pardon!" the voice exclaimed.  
  
Hobbes rolled his eyes and quickly flashed his badge into the camera. "We're federal agents. We're here about the car?"  
  
"What car?" the voice asked suspiciously.  
  
"The black Mercedes for sale. We're here about the stolen car!" Bobby answered impatiently.  
  
"I'm still not quite sure…"  
  
Darien lightly pushed Hobbes out of the way and grabbed the camera. "Look, Jeeves, we're here about the red corvette and Charlie sent us."  
  
"Well why didn't you just say so? You don't have to be snappish about it." The voice replied huffily. "Please drive in."  
  
The gate swung open and Darien grinned smugly. "Who's a pro?"  
  
"Yeah, yeah," Bobby brushed it off.  
  
A minute later they were pulling into a circular drive hidden by trees and shadowed by a multi-story home. The front door opened as they stepped up.  
  
"Right this way, gentlemen. R.J. will be with you in a moment."  
  
Fawkes and Hobbes' jaws dropped. "It's a woman," Darien said.  
  
She gave a thin smile. "Never make assumptions."  
  
She led them into a living room, ignoring all the moves Darien was trying to put on her. The woman told them to have a seat and left the room.  
  
"She wasn't very receptive, was she?" Darien remarked.  
  
"With you, who would be?" Bobby replied.  
  
Darien shot him a look, then made note of the room. "Pretty nice digs here. This guy must be really successful. And own more than one car. Wonder why he called in the government for it."  
  
"He probably didn't. When the connection was made with all five, they probably came to him."  
  
At that moment a young, blonde woman entered the room. "I'm sorry if I kept you waiting, gentlemen."  
  
Bobby glanced at the file. "Uh, we're looking for an R.J. Wilson."  
  
She smiled graciously. "I'm R.J. Don't let the initials fool you. They stand for Rebecca Jacquelyn."  
  
"Never assume anything." Darien murmured.  
  
"Now that you know me, you are?" she prompted.  
  
Bobby smiled at her. "My apologies, Ms. Wilson. I'm Bobby Hobbes and this is my partner Darien Fawkes. We're here to investigate the car that was stolen."  
  
"Well, I'd gladly let investigate the car itself if it was here; however, as you say it was stolen. You can look at the garage, but there isn't much there." She replied smoothly.  
  
Bobby reddened slightly at the first statement, and Darien grinned. "We'd appreciate it." He said.  
  
R.J. showed them the way to the garage and then disappeared back into the house. The 'isn't much there' turned out to be a massive building containing at least ten other cars, all of which were covered with protective tarps.  
  
Bobby and Darien stared down the line of cars that resembled a small parking lot.  
  
"Man, all I can say is that we better find that car and be heavily rewarded for it." Darien remarked.  
  
"Right. Do your thermo-eye thing and see if there're any traces of quicksilver." Bobby instructed. He rubbed his arms. "Is it…" he trailed off.  
  
Darien had just coated his eyes with liquid like substance. "Is it what?" he asked while scanning the one empty space in the garage.  
  
Hobbes didn't answer for a moment. He'd been about to ask if it was cold in there, or was it just him. He was suddenly afraid of the answer. "Is it to old? I mean, you know, has it been to long to pick up anything?" he covered.  
  
Fawkes turned his solid black orbs on his partner. "If he left any traces, I could still see them. It was stolen what, two days ago? Quicksilver doesn't degenerate that fast. Unless someone's been in here and stirred it up and away."  
  
Bobby tried not to squirm under the all black gaze. "Well, it was a crime scene. You mind? Keep looking."  
  
Darien grinned at his friend's uneasiness. "What? Scaring you?"  
  
"Have you ever seen yourself in a mirror when you look like that? You remind me of something out of the Exorcist. Hollow man cometh." Bobby replied dryly.  
  
"Gee, I feel loved." Fawkes muttered, walking down the row of cars, trying to find anything helpful.  
  
Bobby started to say something to appease the last statement, but sighed and waved his hand at his partner's back. As he brought his hand back down an excruciating cramp seized his arm and he bit back a gasp. He pulled it sharply against his body and tried to pull it out of the cramp. He stared at it in horror. The skin from the back of his wrist to the crook of his elbow was a light blue, and the veins were standing out like icebergs in the night sea.  
  
Fawkes was saying something, but it sounded muted to him and far away.  
  
"I'm losing my mind," he thought desperately.  
  
Then it was gone as quickly as it had come on. His skin color returned to normal and his veins went back to normal. Bobby shivered. He could almost feel his blood slugging along trying to regain circulation.  
  
Fawkes stood from behind the car he'd been crouching by, irritated at being ignored. "Did you hear me? I found something over here."  
  
Bobby tried to get control of his vocal chords. "Yeah, yeah, okay." He murmured.  
  
Darien shook the quicksilver off of his eyes. "You okay, buddy? You're looking a little pale there."  
  
He looked up at his partner still feeling slightly bewildered. "I'm fine, Fawkes. What did you find?" Bobby walked over the car Fawkes was by, rubbing his arm.  
  
Fawkes pointed at the floor, but was still watching Hobbes. "Traces of quicksilver. It doesn't make sense, though. The car that was stolen was all the way over there."  
  
Momentarily forgetting the strange occurrence, Bobby glanced around the garage. "Arnaud could have come in through that bay window at the end there."  
  
Fawkes nodded. "I bet he doesn't walk into them, either."  
  
"I wouldn't know. Anything else?"  
  
"No. And it probably wouldn't help to check for fingerprints?"  
  
"No." Bobby affirmed.  
  
R.J. Wilson reappeared at the garage door entrance. "Have you gentlemen satisfied you curiosity?"  
  
Both men looked up, startled. "Yes, ma'am. There's not much here for us to find, but don't worry. We'll get your car back."  
  
She smiled. "Of course you will. It's not the end of the world if you don't."  
  
"Who was the last person to see the car?" Hobbes asked.  
  
"I was. I drove it to a charity function and back the night it was stolen." R.J. replied.  
  
"Did you see the car being stolen?" Fawkes asked.  
  
"No. I went to bed right after that. Elaine, the lady who let you in, saw it stolen, but as she told the police, she didn't see anyone driving the car. It was more than likely too dark." R.J. said.  
  
"She lives here with you?" Hobbes asked.  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Thank you Miss Wilson, we'll contact you if we need anything else." Bobby said. "Let's go, Fawkes."  
  
Bobby headed back to the van, and Fawkes followed slowly. He was trying to catch another glimpse of Elaine. He had a weird feeling about her.  
  
Hobbes stood by the van, waiting for Fawkes. He looked down at his wrist and frowned. One of the veins was beginning to swell under his skin and turn a lighter shade of blue.  
  
Fawkes ambled out of the house, giving R.J Wilson a final wave. She returned it and stood in the doorway. She stared at Bobby and smiled. Bobby caught it, and it gave him a tight feeling.  
  
"Hurry up, Fawkes. We have work to do." He called. He just wanted to get out of there.  
  
Darien heard the tone and picked up the pace a little. Something was bugging his partner, and he was determined to find out. He hoped into the van next to Hobbes. "Where to next?"  
  
Hobbes nodded his head in the direction of the file on the seat. "See which car owner lives closest to here. We'll check them next."  
  
Darien looked at the addresses on each one. "You know, if there's something going on you can tell me. Honest." He said, attempting to sound nonchalant.  
  
Bobby glanced over at him. "Thanks, partner. I'll let you know when something goes wrong."  
  
Darien fought from sighing in aggravation. "No problem. There's a viper missing from an address a few blocks over."  
  
"Right." 


	3. Chapter 3

Title: Shiver 3/? (I really have no clue…. ^_^)  
  
Author: Anna Maxwell  
  
Disclaimer: They still aren't mine. Aw, crap.  
  
  
  
"What do you mean you don't own one?" Hobbes asked the woman standing at the door.  
  
The woman re-balanced the baby at her hip, and shouted something inside to another child. "Look, Officer, Detective, Agent, whatever you are, does it look like we could afford one of those things? I have a teenage son who would sell his soul to look inside one, much less own one." She said.  
  
Darien stepped forward. "But it says here that this car was stolen from this address four days ago by an unseen thief."  
  
The lady shook her head. "I'm sorry, gentlemen, but you have the wrong address. That car's monthly gas bill probably costs more than our rent. You must have a faulty record." A crash sounded from within her home. "If you'll excuse me." She shut the door in their faces.  
  
Hobbes and Fawkes looked at each other.  
  
"Well I told you it didn't look like much." Darien said.  
  
"I just went with what you told me was on the file. You're the one that double checked it." Hobbes replied.  
  
"I guess Eberts made a mistake in putting the file together."  
  
They paused and glanced at each other again. "Nah."  
  
The two agents trooped back to the van. Darien slid in and slouched in his seat, looking at the pictures in the file. Hobbes sat next to him, trying to concentrate.  
  
"So what next?" Fawkes asked.  
  
"I say we check out the rest of the addresses, then head back to the agency if we don't find anything." Hobbes said.  
  
"We'll have to look for Arnaud if we don't find anything." Fawkes murmured.  
  
Bobby looked at him. "Don't go getting any big ideas, my friend. That could be a long way off."  
  
Darien sighed. "I know. You think he's playing a game or something? Like he'll jump out and surprise us with a 'got you two stupid agents' and have all five cars sitting at the agency when we get back?"  
  
"I doubt it. He wouldn't put that much effort into making a joke. Into making yours or both of our lives miserable maybe, but not just for a gag." Bobby said.  
  
"Let's get moving then. There's a horror flick on TV tonight." Darien said.  
  
"Horror flick? You don't get enough of that at work everyday?"  
  
  
  
The other three cars on the list, a Prowler, a custom Mercedes, and a Ferrari, all had the same results. None of the people at the addresses given in the file had ever owned cars like that, and probably never would. Defeated and disgusted, the partners headed back towards the agency.  
  
"It doesn't make any sense. One goof up from Eberts would be understandable; he is human. But to screw up on four addresses?" Bobby groaned.  
  
"I don't know, man. I think there's something else going on here. None of those people had any idea what we were talking about. That one lady didn't even know what a Prowler was." Darien said.  
  
"The only one who was legitimate was R.J Wilson." Bobby mused.  
  
"Did you get weird vibes off that Elaine woman when we were there?" Darien asked.  
  
Hobbes smirked. "Just because one woman doesn't woo at your amazing charms doesn't mean she's got something wrong up there." He tapped the front of his head.  
  
"Speak for yourself." Fawkes replied. "And that's not what I meant. She just gave me a funny feeling."  
  
"Kind of like R.J herself. You wonder how she made that stack of cash."  
  
"Exactly."  
  
"You think we're being set up." Bobby said, rubbing his arm absently.  
  
"I don't know. What do you think?" Darien asked.  
  
"I think we should have a chat with the boss about sending us on a goose chase, that's what I think. If he really didn't know about it, then we play on your theory. But it would be hard to play that kind of game with the government." Bobby said.  
  
"You put way to much faith in the government." Darien said under his breath.  
  
Bobby heard him, but ignored the statement. It wasn't so much that he didn't want to retort, but the edges of his vision were getting a little bit hazy and blurry. He shook his head to clear it of the sensation, only to have it worsen to blurriness. Maybe you could even call it frostiness along the sides of his eyes.  
  
Darien was didn't notice the lack of response, but he did notice when the van swayed dangerously towards the other lane. "You might want to watch it there, Hobbesey. The other drivers might want some of the road too."  
  
Bobby gritted his teeth and squinted his eyes to see better. The cramping that had accompanied the onslaught of his arm was pushing against his eyes. He remembered that was how Darien described Quicksilver madness to him. A subtle terror that clawed it's way to the foreground.  
  
"Hobbes, man, you're leaning a little bit to far to the left here." Darien said. This was beginning to make him nervous.  
  
"Shut up, Fawkes, I'm aware of this," Hobbes growled.  
  
"Hobbes," Darien said cautiously. A car blared its horn behind them. "I think they want to know if your going to change lanes or not." He offered.  
  
"I don't." Hobbes muttered. He could feel his irises begin to contract. He mumbled something Darien didn't hear. "Can you drive over me?"  
  
Darien blinked. "Drive over you?"  
  
"You may have to take the wheel." Bobby explained calmly. He was proud, but he wasn't stubborn enough to put his partners life on the line for it.  
  
"What's wrong?" Fawkes demanded.  
  
"I'm losing my vision." Bobby said.  
  
Fawkes gaped at him. "Now you're telling me?"  
  
"Better late than never."  
  
"Did I ever tell you how much I hate clichés?" Darien muttered.  
  
As soon as the statement was out of his mouth, Bobby lost all of his sight. "Fawkes!" he gasped.  
  
Darien lunged over and grabbed the wheel. "Hobbes!" he shouted.  
  
"There's nothing I can do!" he replied desperately. He squeezed his eyes shut to fight off the attack. The last one had gone away quickly.  
  
Darien swerved through an open line of traffic and into a parking lot. "Hit the break, hit the break!"  
  
Automatically Hobbes jabbed his foot out and the vehicle came to an abrupt halt, nearly throwing Darien through the windshield. Darien slumped between the seats and took several deep breaths. Quicksilver flaked off his body where patches of it had disappeared during the unscheduled adrenaline rush. Bobby kept his eyes closed and reached out a hand. It made solid contact with Darien's shoulder and he squeezed it.  
  
"You okay?" he asked quietly.  
  
"Oh, yeah, Just dandy. You going to tell me what that was about or are you going to wait until we actually crash?"  
  
Bobby cringed and put his hands over his face. He lowered them and carefully opened his eyes. Crystal clear vision. He bit his lower lip and leaned back in the seat. "I'm going crazy." he said softly.  
  
"I highly doubt it. We reached that plateau a long time ago." Fawkes replied. "Now, what was that about?"  
  
Hobbes shook his head. "I don't know."  
  
"Forgive me if I don't believe you."  
  
"You're forgiven. I still don't know."  
  
"Hobbes…"  
  
"Look, if I knew, don't you think I'd be telling you right about now?"  
  
"Something had to happen back there. You've been acting weird all day. You don't generally have cramps, and I think I would have noticed if you'd lost your sight while driving before."  
  
Bobby looked at him. "I don't know, Fawkes. My eyes just went blurry then poof. I couldn't see anything. It's not like I'm doing this on purpose."  
  
Darien sighed. "Will you talk to Claire?"  
  
"What for?"  
  
"You know what for." Darien snapped.  
  
Bobby started to protest but stopped himself. He thought of all the people he could have killed if Darien hadn't been in the van to grab the wheel. He could have caused a major wreck. Or he could have killed his partner or himself if he hadn't said anything. He sighed and looked at Golda's ceiling. "Okay. I don't know what I'm gong to tell her."  
  
Fawkes didn't say anything. Inwardly, he was afraid that Bobby really was going crazy. Maybe he was having a psychosomatic attack. Too many pills and it wasn't the right solution. But if Hobbes went crazy, where would that leave Darien?  
  
"Switch seats with me. I'm driving." He finally said.  
  
Bobby nodded slowly and got out of the van. He walked around to the other side and got in as Darien took the drivers seat. He felt as comfortable sitting in the driver's seat of the van as he did getting his weekly injection. The rest of the ride to the agency was silent.  
  
They didn't say anything going into the agency, either. Neither one of them could remember a time where they hadn't said anything to each other for so long. But neither one of them could think of anything to break it. They eventually came to an awkward halt in front of the Official's office.  
  
Darien shifted uncomfortably. "I'll go talk to the boss, and you go talk to Claire."  
  
"Sure." Bobby agreed.  
  
"Yeah. I'll…I'll meet you back here."  
  
"Okay." Bobby headed down the hall to the elevator.  
  
Darien watched him until he got there, and with a sigh knocked on the Official's door. He disappeared inside at the given 'enter'.  
  
After he heard the door shut, Bobby turned as he waited for the elevator. "I wasn't born yesterday, kid." He said softly to himself. "Nobody's going to want an unreliable partner." The elevator dinged its arrival.  
  
  
  
Darien flopped into his usual chair. "Four out of five of them are bogus."  
  
The official glared at him. "What do you mean by that?"  
  
"I mean that the people living at the places you gave us don't own the cars." Darien said.  
  
"That's impossible. Those are the addresses the police gave us." Eberts objected.  
  
"I'm telling you that they aren't real. Hobbes and I checked every one of them and only one, R.J. Wilson, admitted to having one of those cars stolen."  
  
"Are you sure you got the right addresses with the right car?" Eberts asked.  
  
Darien glared at him. "We aren't completely inept. We can read addresses off a page."  
  
"This is ridiculous. There's an explanation for this." The Official cut in.  
  
"We were hoping that there was." Fawkes said.  
  
"Speaking of we, where is your partner?"  
  
"He's talking to Claire."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Small medical mishap. Nothing major."  
  
"With the two of you a paper-cut becomes the plague. How not major is nothing major?" The Official asked suspiciously.  
  
"Um…He…kind of blanked out. On the road." Darien said, trying to play it down.  
  
"He did what?" The tone indicated more disbelief than not understanding.  
  
"He lost his sight momentarily. It came back. Like I said, nothing major. About the addresses?" Darien asked. He was hoping he looked nonchalant. Or at least somewhat innocent.  
  
The Official glared at him. "It better be nothing. I can't have an agent working on this case who could spaz out at any moment."  
  
Darien chose not to comment. 


	4. Chapter 4

Title: Shiver 4/?  
  
Author: Anna Maxwell  
  
See first part for disclaimer.  
  
Author's notes: Hey guys, thanks again so much for reviewing. I'm sorry this hasn't gotten out sooner. Bad case of mental blockage ^_^; and school papers. Which I still haven't finished. Ah, well. The important things come first. I haven't seen the last episode of the show, (I'm afraid to watch it ^_~) but I have it on tape, so this may have turned into an AU when I wasn't paying attention. Also of note, I haven't seen the first season. _ Please forgive me for any errors concerning the beginning of Fawkes and Hobbes' partnership. Enjoy! Thanks!  
  
Claire held a vial of Bobby's blood up to the light. "I don't know what to tell you, Bobby. There doesn't appear to be anything immediately wrong." She brought it down and looked at the agent. He was sitting on Fawkes' usual place, holding a gauze pad to his arm.  
  
"So what's the deal? Am I hallucinating all of this?" he asked.  
  
"I doubt it. Even if you hallucinated your arm seizing up and freezing, you couldn't hallucinate blindness. Technically you could, I suppose, but I don't think that's what's happening to you. You don't have a past history with hallucinations. Just paranoia."  
  
"Thanks for defining the fine line between them."  
  
Claire shook her head and brushed a strand of hair behind her ear. "I swear, you're as bad as Darien sometimes. All I can tell you is that I'll run some tests on it and get back with you in the morning. If it gets worse, call me."  
  
"If you get anything sooner..."  
  
Claire gave him a patient smile. "I'll let you know."  
  
He nodded. "Thanks, Keep." He pitched the gauze pad into a trashcan, grabbed his coat and left the lab.  
  
Fawkes met him in the hall outside of the Official's office. "So, what's the diagnosis?"  
  
"There isn't one yet. She'll get back to me if she finds anything." Bobby said. "What have you got?"  
  
Fawkes saw the instant change in subject, but ignored it. "The boss says to go back to the one place we had results and check there."  
  
"R.J. Wilson's place?"  
  
"Yeah. If we don't find anything there, we're free for the evening. Tomorrow Eberts will go over the addresses and facts with the police unit that handled it." Fawkes said.  
  
"Great. Let's make this quick then, huh? You up for dinner later?"  
  
"Sure. Got a question, though."  
  
"Shoot, kid."  
  
"Who's driving?"  
  
There was a decided pause as Bobby chose between being irritated or just to laugh it off. "Why put both of our lives on the line? I'll drive." He said.  
  
Darien rolled his eyes. "Great. You sure Claire didn't say anything?"  
  
"Nothing I didn't already know. There's nothing we can do, Fawkes. It's not like I time when it's going to happen."  
  
They'd reached the parking lot during their conversation. Fawkes stopped him. "Just how many times has the freezing up happened?"  
  
Bobby glared at him. "Why are you mother henning me, Fawkes? Quit worrying about what you can't control."  
  
"Okay, that goes up for most ironic statement of the year." Darien muttered.  
  
Bobby thought he was going to explode. "I don't know, Fawkes! Four, maybe. Four times today. That make you happy?"  
  
"Hey, don't bite my head off about it, buddy! I'm just trying to help you."  
  
"You can help by leaving it alone. Can't you take a hint?" The last thing I need right now is something else going wrong with my life." Bobby snapped.  
  
Time slowed and it seemed like reality froze with the aftershock of his words. Bobby turned to face his partner. Fawkes stood there staring at him, his face a blank expression. But the look in his eyes told Bobby exactly how that had sounded.  
  
"That's not what I meant, partner." He said quietly.  
  
Darien dropped his gaze before looking back up at him with a tight smile. "Yeah. We all know how you rally wanted to be my partner in the first place."  
  
"Fawkes..."  
  
Darien waved him off. "Forget it. Just forget it, Hobbes. We have a job to do. Let's go."  
  
Bobby sighed. A brick wall might do him good right about now. That and banging his head against it. This was turning into a longer day than he ever liked to experience. One thing was for sure; he'd have to make it up to his partner.  
  
"You know what the last thing I really need is? Pushing yet another partner away. Especially you." Hobbes said under his breath. Darien didn't hear him.  
  
Elaine stood by the window and pulled the curtain to the side at the sound of a vehicle pulling up in the driveway. R.J. Wilson was stretched out on the couch, inhaling from a newly lit cigarette. She tapped it into the ashtray and looked over at the other woman.  
  
"Is it them?"  
  
Elaine nodded. "Yes."  
  
"How does he look?"  
  
"He looks fine to me."  
  
R.J. rolled her eyes. "It's probably all the lithium in his system blocking the drug from working. I told Arnaud to drug the one with the gland."  
  
"The counteragent would have canceled it out." Elaine said quietly.  
  
"I know. Patience may be a virtue, but no one ever called me a woman of virtues." R.J. Remarked. She picked up the phone on the side table and dialed a number. "Arnaud? Yes it's me. They're back, and the short one isn't dead yet. What do you want me to do?"  
  
The bell rang, signaling Fawkes and Hobbes' arrival at the front door. Elaine moved away from the window to answer it.  
  
"I see." R.J. said. "Will do." She hung up and put her cigarette out. "Elaine, wait."  
  
The younger woman paused, her hand on the doorknob. "What?"  
  
"We aren't going to act yet. Arnaud told us to wait; he said the drub should take full effect by tonight."  
  
Elaine looked dubious. "Wasn't Agent Hobbes supposed to be alive when he got here?"  
  
R.J. shrugged. "He's going to wind up dead either way, what does it matter? As long as we get paid I'm a happy girl. Now let them in and let's try to make this quick. I don't think I could stand very many more of their poor pick-up attempts."  
  
Elaine grinned as R.J. made herself scarce until called for. Elaine opened the door to the two men as the bell rang again. She was mildly surprised to find them glowering at each other, but ushered them inside with little expression.  
  
"How can I help you two gentlemen?" she asked demurely.  
  
"We'd like to speak to Ms. Wilson again. There's been a small complication in the investigation." Hobbes said sharply.  
  
"Ms. Wilson isn't available at the moment,"  
  
Darien cut her off. "Come on, we know she's here. This won't take long."  
  
Elaine raised an eyebrow. "Very well, gentlemen. Please wait in the room you did before. I'll get Ms. Wilson for you."  
  
Fawkes sauntered into the room, Hobbes right behind him. Darien flopped down in one of the chairs and watched his partner inspect the room. He wasn't exactly mad about the earlier comment because deep down he knew that really was not what Bobby had meant. Nevertheless it had stung, and he had every intention of acting mad. It was a matter of pride and principal.  
  
Hobbes was taking every inch of the room and cataloguing facts in his brain. Most of it he remembered from earlier, but there were details he had missed. He got a nauseous feeling in the pit of his stomach. He couldn't figure out what was causing it; it wasn't the same kind of feeling he'd been getting when his veins would freeze. It was a feeling of forbearing almost. Suddenly, his suspicion of R.J. Wilson flashed to the front of his mind and he almost subconsciously moved to stand behind the chair his partner was sitting in.  
  
Darien looked up at him. "What are you doing?"  
  
"I have a weird feeling." Hobbes said.  
  
"What's new?" Fawkes muttered.  
  
Hobbes glared at the top of his partner's head and was about to remark when R.J. Wilson glided into the room. She smiled smoothly.  
  
"Back with good news, gentlemen?" she asked.  
  
Hobbes placed his hands on the back of the chair and leaned on it. "Not exactly, Ms. Wilson. As I told the other lady, there was a complication in the investigation."  
  
"Oh, really?" R.J. asked nonchalantly, seating herself across from the two. "What would that complication be?"  
  
"None of the other cars reported missing exist." Darien told her.  
  
Her facial expression did not change. "I see. Do they not exist, or are they simply not able to be recovered?"  
  
"We aren't sure either way. We wanted to know if you knew any of the people who supposedly reported them, or had any connection with any of the other owners." Hobbes said, tightening his grip on the chair. That feeling was getting stronger every second he looked at the fair complexioned woman.  
  
She smiled at them again. Hobbes noticed she had perfectly straight, white teeth. "Or if I had any part in stealing them, or making it into some sort of set up? You can be blunt with me, gentlemen. I get it al the time."  
  
"Are you part of a set up?" Darien asked.  
  
R.J. shook her blonde hair and laughed. "What if I told you I was? You wouldn't believe it. If I tell you I'm not, you'll most certainly think I am. I invite you to search the garage again. Search my entire home, if you like. I have nothing to hide."  
  
Fawkes tried to catch his partner's eye, which was hard to do with the older man standing behind him. He waited for Hobbes to respond.  
  
"I don't think that will be necessary. Thank you for your time." Hobbes said quietly.  
  
R.J. stood. "Not a problem. I hope to see you both again when you bring good news."  
  
Hobbes was already halfway into the hall. Darien stood and followed at what he thought was an even pace. R.J. walked along behind them, a smug grin still plastered on her face. The closer to the van Hobbes got, the faster he seemed to walk. Darien was at the front door when R.J. grabbed his arm. Hobbes was out of earshot.  
  
"You may want to watch your partner," she said darkly, "he isn't looking so well."  
  
Darien glanced at Bobby's retreating form. "He looks all right to me." He said, forcing a grin.  
  
R.J. returned the grin, but there was an evil taint to it. "Well, right now he does. But you know those twenty-four hour viruses. They strike so randomly and depending on the person, can leave great amounts of damage."  
  
Fawkes felt his insides turn. He felt the urge to bolt to the van and speed away from the place as fast as possible. The grin slipped off his face and he stared at her. "I'll remember that. Good night." He managed and took off.  
  
"Good night indeed, Mr. Fawkes." R.J. said as she shut the door and leaned against it. This was going to be very interesting when the two of them came back. And they would come back.  
  
Darien buckled as Bobby put the van into gear.  
  
"You make a date with the hostess?" Hobbes asked.  
  
Fawkes shifted uncomfortably. "Not exactly. We're done for the night, right?"  
  
"Yeah. You still up for dinner?"  
  
"I don't think so. I'd just like to go home." Fawkes said.  
  
Bobby nodded. "Sure."  
  
Fifteen minutes later Darien was waving to Hobbes' comment of seeing him the next morning on time. Fawkes stood in the parking lot after he left, R.J.'s words ringing in his ears. There was something suspicious about the woman and the way she acted and after what she said he had been half tempted to ask Bobby just to stay so they could order out. He'd swallowed the request last minute. He was being as paranoid as Hobbes could be. He headed for his apartment faster when he remembered the frozen lasagna dinner in his freezer...  
  
Darien wasn't sleeping well when three o'clock that morning rolled around. He was barely gracing the edges of sleep, the darkness of deep slumber seemingly taunting him, but it was out of his reach. He mumbled something in his sleep and curled onto his side with a sigh.  
  
Bobby was lying on his back, breathing quick shallow breaths. His gaze was fixed on the ceiling and he was trying to ignore the constricting feeling in his throat. He knew without even touching his neck that it probably looked blue and his veins were slowly closing off. He was silently praying that this would pass as quickly as the one in his eyes had. He closed his eyes, as breathing became a harder task. Hardly any oxygen was getting down, and Bobby was beginning to panic. A pale streak showed up across his cheek as a bolt of pain ran through his nerves and he fought not to cry out. He was having a hard enough time forcing air in; he didn't think it was a good idea to be forcing it out.  
  
He pushed himself into a sitting position and grabbed for the phone cord. He pulled it into his hands as he slid to the floor, his back against the bed. He dialed the number he'd committed to memory long ago and prayed for his partner to answer.  
  
The phone jangling in his ear startled Fawkes from the light sleep he was in. At first he couldn't figure out what was going on until he actually looked at the phone and his mind put the pieces together. He stretched his arm out and picked it up.  
  
" `Ello?" he mumbled. The only thing he heard in response was a ragged breath on he other end of the line. He blinked and forced himself to say the whole word. "Hello?"  
  
Another breath and a whisper. "kes," was all he heard.  
  
Darien frowned and sat up. "Who is this?"  
  
"Fawkes,"  
  
Darien's mind whirled. "Hobbes? What's wrong?"  
  
He heard another strangled breath. "Dar,"  
  
"Bobby?"  
  
There was a thud as the phone on Bobby's end hit the floor.  
  
"Hobbes! Bobby? Bobby! Hang on man, I'll be there." Darien jolted out of bed and grabbed his clothes. He tried to fight down the rising panic, but he wasn't having much luck.  
  
Bobby lay on the floor of his bedroom, staring out the window and barely hanging on to consciousness. "Dar," he repeated, thinking that Fawkes hadn't heard him. The struggle to stay awake became too great and he fell unconscious still believing that his partner hand' t heard him. 


End file.
